


Please

by johnlockedfangirl



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Bottom!Sherlock, Breathplay, Established Johnlock, Kinky, M/M, Military Kink, NSFW, Oneshot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post series 4, Sex, Smut, language warning, top!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:36:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10915398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnlockedfangirl/pseuds/johnlockedfangirl
Summary: Sherlock begs John to choke him. Shameless smut ensues.





	Please

**Author's Note:**

> Written very quickly due to a post in a FB group. Hope you enjoy! P.S. Feedback is appreciated. This is my first time writing smut. Hope it's acceptable!

They’d settled into a easy lifestyle, even if it was unanticipated. Rosie was blossoming under the attentions of her two fathers. John had been “Daddy” from the start, and Sherlock had slowly grown used to being “Papa.” John had proposed, Rosie had waddled down the aisle as their flower girl, and that was that. They’d spent their sex holiday in Venice. It had been lovely. Things became lovelier. The cases were intriguing, the sex was mind blowing, and they settled into a regular lifestyle.  
And then one day, Sherlock approached John with a preposition. Rather, he brought it up out of the blue, in the middle of the bedroom.

Rosie was having a day out on the town with her Nana, Mrs. Hudson. They wouldn’t be back for hours, by Sherlock’s estimate, and that meant they could indulge in some well-needed, loud shagging.

Sherlock was writhing on the bed already, his thin chest heaving as John nipped and sucked at his sensitised skin, nosing at the dark shock of hair around his groin. Sherlock let out a little yelp as John licked a stripe up his thigh, already half-hard from foreplay. “Oh! Oh, John…”

“What do you want, baby?” John asked, his voice low with arousal. He crawled up to nibble at Sherlock’s neck, slowly sucking a mark there. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Anything?” Sherlock asked, pulling John closer, their bodies already slick with sweat.

“Anything,” John whispered, reverently kissing Sherlock’s throat. He fondled Sherlock’s nipple, the dog tags around his neck pooling on the man’s thin chest. 

“Choke me,” he hissed, low and warm in John’s ear. 

John pulled away, panting slightly. “Sorry, what?” 

“I want you to choke me,” Sherlock said again, more sure. 

John looked at him, lifting an eyebrow. “Where the hell did this come from?” 

“Call it experimental. I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while.”  
John pursed his lips, shaking his head. “No.”

“Why not?” Sherlock whined. His erection was starting to soften, but it gave a pulse, reminding him of his desire. “Please?”

“No, ‘Lock. I can’t.”

“Of course you can.” In this lull in their lovemaking, Sherlock’s bliss was ebbing away, and he launched into an explanation, desperate to have John’s hands on his body again. “Asphyxiation is an aphrodisiac. I’ve been doing research. I want to try it with you. You were a soldier and you’re a doctor. There’s no one else for the job. You know how long is safe and when to stop. And you can adequately apply pressure for just long enough, heightening the pressure until I just begin to blackout. Besides, you were the dominating soldier. I can’t think of any reason why we haven’t --” 

“Sherlock, stop. I’m not going to choke you. End of story,” John said in a low voice. “If you want me to fuck you, fine. But I won’t choke you. I can’t -” his voice faltered. “I can’t hurt you. Not again. I won’t hurt you again.”

Sherlock frowned. “That wasn’t -- John. That was different. I want this. Please. I love you.” He kissed John softly. “You were a soldier, a captain. You know how much I love your captain voice. Especially during sex,” he purred, stroking John’s chest, toying with the dog tags he was so fond of. “I love you ordering me around. Ordering me to take it as you fuck me. Ordering me to suck your cock until you come,” He whispered. John was inclined to stop him right there, but fuck, that was hot. “I love how you dominate me. Completely. And I’m asking you to dominate me again. Fuck me. Choke me. Take my breath away, John. Please?”

It was the please that caught John’s attention. But still, he sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“Please, John,” Sherlock breathed. “I’m begging you. I love the marks you leave on me. But they fade too quickly. I want more. And - And if you don’t -- I’ll do it myself. Which is infinitely more dangerous, and besides, less stimulating. And you know me, you know the risks I’ll --”

“Oh, shut up,” John said, carding his fingers through Sherlock’s hair and tugging lightly. “I’ll do it. But just this one time. That’s it.”

“Oh, John. Thank you…” Sherlock murmured, trailing off as John gripped his arse and ground their hips together, gasping as their lengths brushed against each other. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” John said, reaching around Sherlock for the lube. He lubed himself up, giving himself a good hard strokes before warming a generous amount of lube on his fingers and prodding at Sherlock’s entrance. Being opened up by John always reduced Sherlock to a sweaty, whimpering mess, and this time was no different, except that he was already hard and leaking precum at the prospect of their hasty agreement. Just this once? Then Sherlock was going to beg for him to make it something unforgettable. 

Soon, John was sliding two fingers in and out of him, then three, taking his sweet time. “Quit - teasing me,” Sherlock grunted.

“Quiet!” John ordered. If Sherlock wanted to be choked by a soldier, well, he was going to get it. Sherlock immediately clammed up, hips bucking slightly as John’s curled fingers brushed his prostate. “I’m going to fuck you, Sherlock. And if you’re good, maybe I’ll give you what you want and throttle that pretty throat of yours, hm?”

Sherlock nodded vigorously, trying to keep still. With the both of them prepared, John gently slid into Sherlock’s tight, warm arse. The goal was to get him just to the edge before cutting off his air supply, reducing the risk of harm. By the sight of Sherlock’s flushed face and deep red, pulsing cock, it wouldn’t take long. 

“I want to hear you beg, Sherlock. How much do you want this?”

The detective was already gasping for breath, as was John. The ex-soldier started to thrust, each snap of his hips making the bed shake dangerously. “Please! Please - John!” Sherlock gasped out, unable to keep quiet. John was in a dilemma. He didn’t really want to choke Sherlock. The detective experienced too much harm as it was on a daily basis. Perhaps there was another way… but the idea of simply clamping his hands over Sherlock’s mouth and nose reminded him too much of that demented Culverton Smith case. 

He looked down at Sherlock. His curls were damp, stuck to his glistening forehead. His eyes were bright, begging, pleading with him. Those talented lips were parted as he gasped in deep breaths and let out little moans at the crest of each of John’s thrusts. Fuck it. Fine.

John ran a hand up Sherlock’s chest, tugging lightly at his nipples just to tease him. Sherlock moaned all the louder. “John… Please…”

Finally, John tightened his hand on Sherlock’s throat, just enough to restrict his breathing. The effect was immediate. Sherlock gasped in a breath, feeling heat bloom anew in his abdomen. The feeling of John’s slick length sliding in and out of his arse was perfect, and the hand on his throat was strong and sure. More perfect than Sherlock had imagined. “Harder,” he gasped out.

John decided to give in. The sight of Sherlock gaping beneath him was incredibly hot. John literally held Sherlock’s life in his hand, and the fact Sherlock trusted him so explicitly, begging him to do this, was a definite turn on. So John squeezed a bit harder, cutting off Sherlock’s air supply completely. Sherlock gaped like a fish, eyes widening in surprise but they were still filled with bliss. 

John’s heart was thundering in his chest and he was panting hard, as if to make up for the breaths he was depriving Sherlock of. 

Sherlock was completely blissed-out. He could feel the oxygen slowly slipping from his bloodstream, lungs aching and heart pounding madly in his chest. John’s grip was warm, tight, solid, and so right. He’d scream if he were able to. But he couldn’t even manage a breathless whimper. His reflexes kicked in, diaphragm spasming as he tried to bring in air he simply couldn’t reach. He felt himself go limp as stars started to swim before his eyes. 

John loosened his grip at that point, and the swift gulp of air brought oxygen back to Sherlock’s great brain and even more blood to his cock. Before he even had time for another breath, John had clamped down again, still thrusting, and Sherlock nearly drowned in a flood of arousal. 

His heart was pounding so fast in his ears that he couldn’t hear the headboard slamming against the wall. John gave it his all, the dog tags swinging between them as he fucked Sherlock with all he had. Stars were exploding before Sherlock’s eyes again, as the oxygen deprivation sent him into a state of unbelievable pleasure. He was all John’s. And John could have him as much as he wanted. This was worth it. 

A few more good thrusts and John knew he was nearing the edge, grunts and groans mingling with his sole panting in the room. He loosened his grip to let Sherlock have another breath, and it was then the detective came hard, strings of his cum coating both of their chests. John came in nearly the same moment, filling the slick heat of his husband with his own cum.  
John pulled out, gently, falling back on the bed with Sherlock next to him as they both got their breath back. “God…”

He propped himself up on his elbow, looking at Sherlock’s trembling, gasping form. “You okay?”

“That was… fantastic,” Sherlock murmured, completely limp and pliable against the sheets. “You’re absolutely amazing, John.”

John smiled wryly. “Mm. Well, I hope you enjoyed it. That’ll be the only time, you hear me? You’ll probably have a fantastic bruise tomorrow morning. It might be sore.” 

Sherlock laughed. “I think the only thing that’ll be sore will be my arsehole.”

John rolled his eyes, leaning in to kiss him.


End file.
